


A Most Unlikely Pair

by pauraque



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Illustrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-11
Updated: 2004-06-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/pseuds/pauraque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Peter babysits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Most Unlikely Pair

**Author's Note:**

> For Millefiori, who requested something "light and happy" with Peter and Draco. o_O Asphodeline helpfully provided (and illustrated!) the plot, for which I am very grateful.

As they stood talking in the Malfoys' warm summer garden, another plaintive, high-pitched howl pierced the air.

The Dark Lord paused, and a slow, reptilian smile crept across his face. 'Lucius,' he said cordially, 'would you mind terribly keeping that thing quiet while I am speaking?'

'I apologize, my lord,' Malfoy said with a slight bow. 'I've no idea where that wretched elf could be....' He turned to Peter and shooed him almost desperately towards the tree under which the baby sat crying fretfully.

Peter walked off reluctantly. He didn't want to miss what his master was saying, but he reckoned he didn't have a choice. The baby only wailed more loudly as Peter crouched down to shush it. Chewing his lip worriedly, he awkwardly patted the infant's fine, whispy hair.

'Come on, now,' he muttered. 'Come on, hush up...'

The baby screwed up its face horribly, seeming mortally offended by Peter's attempt, and let out several exaggerated sobs, as if knowing it could get Peter in trouble. Peter glanced back nervously over his shoulder where Malfoy and the Dark Lord still stood conversing... His thoughts began to race— It was about the same age as Harry, this one, but Harry never cried like this... At least, not when he had his stuffed lion to hold...

A wand lit up in Peter's head. No sooner had he got the idea than he transformed, falling to the ground with a plop. The baby was silenced for a moment, probably surprised, and then whimpered uncertainly.

Peter allowed himself a moment to take in the rich, wet smells of grass and earth, and then crept up to the now monstrously huge baby. He nuzzled a giant pudgy foot, tickling with his whiskers and wet nose. The baby let out a formless cry— this time of delight. Peter huffed a small breath of relief.

A moment later, a stubby-fingered hand grabbed Peter by the pelt and lifted him roughly— he let out a startled squeak. The baby dropped him almost immediately onto its broad, alabaster leg; Peter scrambled to keep a grip without clawing the soft skin, but couldn't manage it and fell into the grass again. The baby gurgled and clapped.

Peter twisted round and licked his back irritably. Being picked up that way had _hurt_ , but at least the infant wasn't crying anymore. And now it was turning over awkwardly into a crawling position, and Peter quickly scurried ahead, not caring to be crushed under a giant knee.

Peter led the baby on a slow chase around the tree for a minute, darting forward and back as the infant clambered after him with its toothless, open grin. As they came round again, the baby reached out for Peter's tail, missed, and fell stomach-first onto the grass.

Worried it would start crying again, Peter hurried over to see if all was well. As he sniffed its round, rosy face, it grabbed him by the back again. He cringed, but this time it wasn't as rough; the child petted Peter's fur heavily, and then pulled him close and held him there.

'Ahh...' said the baby, and its eyelids began to droop. In a moment, it was asleep.

Peter didn't try to get free; he didn't know if he could manage it without waking the thing. He squirmed just a bit, trying to get comfortable, and let out a small wheeze of a sigh. It mightn't be so bad, really... relaxing in the grass, breathing in the warm, powdery-soft smell of the baby's skin.

Yes, Peter thought, beginning to drift off himself. A person could get used to this sort of thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot remember anymore whether I wrote the fic first or Asphodeline did the drawing first, but in any case... Here's the drawing, by the lovely Asphodeline!


End file.
